Flagged
by Advialoth
Summary: Don really should have thought about exactly what else Charlie does for a living before running his fingerprints...
1. Flagged

This story owes it's origins to _Identity Crisis _by ALEO, which is a totally brilliant story by the way, and well worth going to read. A small part of that story stuck in the back of my head and mutated into this…

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**FLAGGED**

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It started out in a fairly simple manner. All that happened was a break in. No one was home and nothing important appeared to have been taken, but the Eppes residence had been ransacked. It was a quiet week at the FBI, so Don had managed to get Director Wright to let his team investigate.

Thursday morning found Don, Charlie and David in the war room, with Colby and Megan not far away at their desks.

There were hundreds of prints from the house. Most would be family, so Alan, Don, and Charlie's prints were all scanned for comparison. Don's prints were eliminated from the mess after just over ten minutes work. Alan's prints had taken close to thirty minutes.

As soon as Charlie's prints were scanned, the computer froze, spitting up a warning sign and beeping menacingly.

Megan and Colby headed in to see what was up just in time to hear David asking, "Charlie, why are your fingerprints flagged?" in a confused tone.

"Oh shit!" Charlie dove into his backpack, frantically searching, while everyone stared at him. Charlie didn't swear… he was just a mild mannered math professor.

Charlie pulled his phone out of his bag, and sure enough, it began ringing.

"Hello?" Charlie flinched, and pulled the phone away from his ear slightly.

"No Bob, I'm fine. My house was burgled, that's all."

It took Charlie several minutes and code words to calm down 'Bob' and get off the phone.

"Charlie, who was that?" asked Don, although he had a sneaking suspicion he knew. But Charlie was rummaging in his backpack again. He had just pulled a piece of paper and a pen out of his backpack when the phone rang again.

"Hello?" again, he pulled the phone back slightly.

"Sorry Tony, I…" he trailed off. Everyone else in the room could hear the muffled roar coming from the cell phone. Charlie straightened, and said clearly, "Charlie Echo Echo, zero two five zero six four nine zero three seven."

Finally, the man on the other end sank back to a normal volume, and Charlie set about explaining.

By now, the team had pulled up chairs and sat down. Megan was watching Charlie's face intently and David was switching his gaze between the mathematician and the computer screen, still frozen with the warning message. Don seemed to be muttering about a 'Bob' and the NSA, and Colby was staring at the paper Charlie had pulled out and begun writing on.

He was making a list.

At the top of the list on the left side of the paper were the NSA and the CIA, followed by Interpol, NSC, HSC, USSS, DIA, NCSD, DARPA, NASA, FBI, CTO, RMA, BIR, BCBP, NCS, USCG, and CDC. On the right side of the page were the Army, Navy, Marines and Air Force, with the UN and NATO sitting by themselves near the bottom. Most interesting were the three blank rectangles he drew in the leftover space, and a single name. George.

Everyone was watching the list now, eyes wide, as Charlie finished the call and crossed off the NSA and CIA. Don snapped his fingers.

"Bob! Robert Tompkins, Director of the NSA." Charlie nodded absently, eyes on his phone. Sure enough, it rang again.

"Hello?"

"Sorry… I was just," Charlie flinched away from the phone, then glanced at the FBI agents sitting around the table, Megan and David staring at him, while Colby whispered 'The NSA director's name is _Bob?!_' to Don, who shrugged and nodded.

"Yellowstone Knightwake. Finland, Orbit, Danni. Negative on Panama. Iawn dw i'n, o ddifri. Rho caniad di wedyn dw i'n." Charlie snapped the phone shut without explaining any further and crossed Interpol off his list, just as the phone rang again. The stares were growing more dazed by the moment.

"Was that _Welsh?!_" Charlie ignored Megan's question as he answered the phone again.

"Hello?"

"No Barker, I'm fine."

"Yes fine, as in totally healthy and mentally stable, although I am slightly annoyed." Charlie ignored Don's quiet snort, and went on to explain what was going on. "Oh, and Barker, would you mind telling Amy her encryption is waiting for her?"

"Thanks, goodbye." again, Charlie snapped the phone shut, and everyone watched as he reached for the list and crossed out NCDS.

"Who is NCDS?" queried David, looking lost.

"National Cyber Security Division." answered Charlie curtly as the phone rang again.

"Hello?"

"Yes sir."

"No sir, that's not necessary."

"Yes sir. You see, my house was burgled…"

Megan looked over at Don, who had the beginnings of a smirk forming on his face. Charlie would be busy consoling department heads until well into the afternoon at this rate.

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**FIN.**

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_Just a bit of fun_. (IE: for entertainment, not serious, etc.) I don't think it needs continuing, but if people want me to go through the rest of Charlie's list it could be done. It just runs the danger of being rather monotonous though.

The Welsh (which probably has horrid grammar) means roughly 'I'm fine, really. I'll call you later.' In my defense, I didn't use an online translator.

Why welsh? Not many people outside Wales actually know it, it's hard to learn and mistakes in translation are easy, hence my not using a translator although my own attempt is probably not much better. For this story, Charlie knows only enough to confuse the listeners and get a basic idea across. He doesn't speak it fluently.

Charlie's list (all of which really exists) includes the following:

NSA - National Security Agency

CIA - Central Intelligence Agency

Interpol - U.S. National Central Bureau

NSC - National Security Council

HSC - Homeland Security Council

USSS - US Secret Service

DIA - Defense Intelligence Agency

NCSD - National Cyber Security Division

DARPA - Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency

NASA - National Aeronautics and Space Administration

FBI - Federal Bureau of Investigation

CTO - Counterterrorism Office

RMA - Risk Management Agency

BIR - Bureau of Intelligence and Research

BCBP - Bureau of Customs and Border Protection

NCS - National Communications System

USCG - US Coast Guard

CDC - Centers for Disease Control and Prevention

US Army

US Navy

US Marine Corps

US Air Force

UN - United Nations

NATO - North Atlantic Treaty Organization

Plus three un-named (and imaginary) secret organizations. I'm sure you can figure out who the George is.


	2. Not so Covert

Wow… so many people wanted this to continue. Thank you to all the amazingly positive people who reviewed!

I finally decided to write a bit more on this story for two reasons. Firstly, because I forgot my University ID number, which caused a lot of trouble… and I got to thinking, what if Charlie forgot something in one of those phone calls? Not a number obviously, since he doesn't forget those easily, but perhaps something just as important…

The second reason for writing was how many people guessed at crossovers for the unnamed boxes. I just thought they could be super secret groups… but crossovers sounded so much more fun. Then I started wondering what sort of crossover might be believable, and how it might occur…

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"I still don't understand how you know all those people." said Don for the third time as the two brothers drove home that evening.

"You knew I did consulting work." pouted Charlie, as if that explained everything. Don glared at him.

"Obviously I had no idea how much." drawled Don sarcastically, switching on the window wipers as rain started to fall gently on the windscreen of the Chevy Suburban.

"Some of them I haven't worked with in years!" protested Charlie, waving his hands around for emphasis.

"But somehow you knew they'd call anyway?" Don rolled his eyes, flicking them towards the rearview mirrors as Charlie's waving hand got out of the way. Charlie sighed.

"That's what they _do_. Of course they'd ring." he turned away and stared out the window through the darkening streets. "No-one wants to lose their human computer." he muttered very quietly to himself, watching the streetlamps backlight the raindrops on the passenger side window, and almost wishing it didn't make him want to calculate refractions.

"What was that Chuck?" asked Don distractedly, eyes darting to the mirrors again.

"Nothing." mumbled Charlie, now focused on a single drop of rain that was rolling down the window, merging with others and gaining speed in defiance of the surface tension as it grew in mass. They continued for a block or so in silence, until Don turned into a side street.

"Don, what are you doing? This isn't the way home." Don checked the mirrors again, frowning, and quickly pulled into a tiny laneway heading back the way they had come.

"Don?" Charlie began to wonder if his brother had finally snapped. He did have a high pressure job…

"I thought I saw someone following us." growled Don finally, stopping in a narrow band of shadows and switching off the lights and the engine, eyes flicking between the road and the mirrors. Charlie turned to look out the back window, just in time to see a dark sedan drive slowly past the end of the laneway behind them.

"Maybe they live around here?" Charlie sounded as if he was trying to convince himself more than asking a question. There was a short silence, only broken by the gentle dripping as the rain outside gradually ceased.

"Maybe." Don said absently as he started the SUV again and headed through the side streets, not wanting to take the usual route home now. As they pulled into their street, Charlie focused on the house. The old Craftsman looked as welcoming as ever and he was looking forward to whatever Dad had cooked for dinner, so he was very surprised when Don drove straight past.

"What now?" Charlie raised an eyebrow.

A vein in Don's neck twitched slightly but he said nothing, intense concentration on his face as he continued at an even pace towards the end of the street, eyes skipping over every detail that was out of place.

No-one in their street owned that silver Chrysler Voyager, nor had he ever seen a silver one in their street. However vehicles of that type were a favorite for surveillance teams, large and seemingly unobtrusive. Relatively common. His own SUV was picked for the same reasons. The man in a jogging suit walking the dog was likewise not familiar… but that was definitely a police-trained German Shepherd, maybe even military trained, and who walks a dog during showers?

As he turned the corner, the lady sitting at the bus stop was also out of place. There was no bus service leaving until morning, so why sit there and read a newspaper? The newspaper was out of place too. Why read it now, when the day was so nearly over?

With every sense screaming at him that something was _very_ wrong, Don forced himself to drive at a normal pace as he headed back towards the well lit main roads, his mind running back over everything he'd ever learnt about surveillance. Between the FBI and his fugitive recovery days, it was quite a lot.

Did he dare go back to the field office, or would they be there too?

-

"Damn it." swore the jogging man with the dog. "He made us. Told you we should have backed off, the guy's a Fed!"

"Negative." responded the leader of the surveillance team inside the Chrysler. "Even if he spotted us, there's no way he knows who we are. Let's keep our distance for now. It's not the Fed we're after."

-

Don wracked his brains for what to do as he sped along the highway back downtown. The highway was safe for now, but he needed a destination.

"Don?"

He ignored Charlie's confused voice as he searched through his options. David had been on his team for ages. Megan was a voice of reason and calm. Colby… Colby was the least likely. He'd been on the team for the shortest time. They shouldn't expect that. With a destination finally in mind, Don drove towards David's house, knowing he could loop back to get to Colby's apartment, hopefully losing their tail in the process.

"DONALD!" Charlie snapped eventually.

"What?" Don glared at the use of his full name.

"What's going on now? Is someone still following us?" The resigned tone in Charlie's voice told Don his brother didn't believe him, and just wanted to go home. There was an uncomfortable silence in the car for a few seconds.

"Can you call Dad and tell him I forgot something at the office?" asked Don finally, passing Charlie his phone.

"But you didn't. You never forget things at the office, you just work late." protested Charlie.

"Then tell him I'm working late!" Don ground out angrily. "Someone was watching the house, okay?" Charlie stared at him for a moment, clearly skeptical.

"Does anyone in our street own a silver Chrysler Voyager? Or a Police-trained German Shepherd? Or wait for a bus at this hour?"

Charlie continued to stare, but the skepticism had fallen from his face, replaced now by fear. He cleared his throat nervously. "So where are we going?"

"You'll see." was all the answer he got.

-

Two streets across from the Eppes residence, a man was sitting on the roof of one of the opulent two storey houses, hidden in the shadow of a gable window. He squinted through a small but powerful scope at the surveillance teams in the area, frowning.

They were being so obvious he wondered for a moment if they were pretending. There was a team in full view of the house, an agent in the cross street trying to hide at this hour in the bus stop, with a newspaper of all things. A bottle would have blended in marginally better. Not to mention the idiot jogging around with a Police dog, or the two teams driving about the suburb in painfully sinister looking dark sedans. The completely blacked out windows were really overkill.

No wonder the Fed kept going. His estimation of the older Eppes brother had gone up slightly at that move. He still had no idea why they were after the Mathematician, but the simple fact that they were meant he must be important.

Stuffing the scope in his pocket, the man climbed down the dark side of the house and crept back to his hotwired ten year old BMW. If Don Eppes was as smart as he appeared to be, he knew where they were headed.

-

By the time Charlie had rung Alan to let him know they could be very late, or early depending on how you looked at it, he was feeling a lot calmer. They hadn't seen any more of the dark sedans with blacked out windows for two suburbs now, ever since Don spent fifteen minutes weaving through back alleys with his lights off.

They parked five houses down and just around the corner from Colby's apartment and Don had also relaxed a little, though he still checked the SUV carefully and made sure he had his backup as well as his service weapon. He made Charlie bring his bag with him as they walked swiftly to Colby's door and knocked.

Colby was surprisingly quick to answer, and the look of confusion on his face spoke volumes about the situation. The look multiplied ten fold as Don rushed Charlie inside and shut the door quickly, checking the blinds were pulled.

"Don, what the hell is going on?" he asked, a bemused look on his face.

"Someone had the house staked out." Don replied flatly as Charlie collapsed on the couch and started digging through his bag.

Colby seemed to transform, snapping straight into what Charlie had privately dubbed 'army mode'. "Are you sure?"

Don nodded curtly. "Unfamiliar SUV in the street, some idiot jogging with a police dog of all things, and a woman at the bus stop with a newspaper. There's no bus service leaving there until morning! Not to mention the two stupidly dark sedans we lost in the alleys near David's house."

Colby frowned for a moment, thinking. "Any idea who…"

"None that I could think of."

"Ah!" muttered Charlie, pulling the list he had made earlier out of his bag, quickly double checking that everyone had either called or been notified, running the conversations over again in his mind. He didn't think he'd missed anyone…

Colby had fetched his gun and a jacket, and he and Don were conferring on where to go in hushed tones when a quiet knock at the door startled them.

Don pushed Charlie out of sight into the kitchen, pulled his gun from its holster and took up a post behind the door, nodding at Colby. Colby opened the door just slightly and then threw it much wider, looking as if someone had slapped him with a fish.

"David? How did you…"

Colby was cut off as 'David' edged into the apartment and shut the door in one swift move, ending with a gun pointed straight at Don, who had his own weapon pointed at the intruder. It wasn't the David he knew.

"You don't need to shoot him." said Colby warily, "At least, not yet. David, what are you doing here? I haven't seen you since before Afghanistan!"

"Jason." grunted David.

Don raised an eyebrow at him, gun never wavering.

"My name is Jason now. I think."

Colby looked confused, and Don's other eyebrow rose to join the first. Didn't he know what his name was?

"Never mind." Jason waved his gun absently, lowering it and turning to Colby. "You have to move. If I found you, they'll be about half an hour behind."

"Who are 'they' exactly?" questioned Colby.

"The CIA." answered Jason brusquely.

"They _would_ use evil looking cars." muttered Don. One side of Jason's mouth twitched.

"So why are you here?" asked Colby again, hoping to get more of an answer this time.

"They're after your brother for some reason." Jason fixed a piercing gaze on Don. "I want to know why."

"So do I." answered Don, glaring back for a moment, before finally nodding to himself. "Charlie?"

Charlie stepped out of the kitchen nervously, eyes darting around the room before fixing on Jason with a terrified expression. Don tensed again.

"I didn't tell them!" blurted Charlie suddenly. "I swear I didn't…"

Jason stared at him with a puzzled expression. "What?!"

Charlie froze. "You're not here to kill anyone?"

Now it was Colby and Don's turn to look confused, but Jason seemed resigned to this sort of reaction.

"No. I left."

Charlie seemed to deflate as the anxiety left him.

"Can someone please tell me what is going on?" pleaded Colby finally, voicing the question that hung in the air.

"Not here. We can take my car." Jason reached for the door handle, waiting. Colby looked at Don, who gave a tiny shrug.

-

Jason's rather second-hand looking BMW was parked directly out the front. Colby took the passenger's seat as Don and Charlie crawled into the back and Jason fiddled with the wires under the steering column.

"You didn't." groaned Colby.

"No-one will miss it." smirked Jason as the Car spluttered to life. He edged it out onto the road gently and cruised along at between three and four miles below the limit, the very definition of inconspicuous.

Charlie seemed a lot more comfortable now, but Don was still edgy.

"Why would you kill people?" he asked, breaking the easy silence that had settled on the other occupants of the car.

Jason's shoulders sagged a little. "Because that was my job."

"You know that assassination case a while back?" interrupted Charlie suddenly.

"Yes…" Don answered slowly, not quite sure if he liked where this was going.

"Remember how I told you I couldn't tell you how I knew all those details…"

"That if you told us, you'd have to kill us? Amita told me about that. You scared her."

Charlie had the decency to look embarrassed at that, and Jason actually gave a snort of laughter from the front.

"Yes, well maybe I couldn't, but they'd send someone who could. I did a variable analysis program for the CIA years ago… Jason was kind enough to provide the necessary data."

"They ordered me." corrected Jason.

Colby was staring across the gear lever at Jason. "You were an assassin?"

"The best." piped Charlie from the back. Jason silenced him with a glare that the rearview mirror did nothing to soften.

There was a tense silence in the car for several city blocks until Charlie spoke up again.

"How did you get out?"

"Amnesia." stated Jason cryptically.

"Didn't they come after you?"

"They did." Jason's eyes glazed a little. "Several times. There's no-one left to send now."

Charlie paled at that, and lapsed back into silence, giving Don time to pull his scattered thoughts together.

"So you were an assassin, Charlie did some kind of assassin analysis for the CIA, and the CIA is staking out our house. Rather badly."

Jason smirked in the front seat.

"They've had some problems with their management lately. They're disorganized at the moment."

Don turned to Charlie. "I thought they called you. Didn't you explain what happened?"

"I thought I did." sighed Charlie. "I'd better call Tony and see what's going on." As Charlie dug out his cell phone, Colby explained to Jason why various organizations had been ringing the Mathematician all afternoon. Jason seemed to find it rather entertaining, and Charlie was red in the face by the time he pulled his phone out of his bag.

"It wasn't that bad." he pouted.

"Yes it was." grinned Colby from the passenger seat.

"Just ring them." growled Don. "Maybe we can go home then."

"They can't track your phone can they?" asked Jason suddenly.

Charlie smirked as he dialed the number. "Not unless they want computer problems."

He only had to wait a few seconds before the phone was picked up.

"Tony Denton." was the officious reply.

"Tony? Why are there agents trying to stake out my house?" asked Charlie as calmly as he could, while Colby stifled laughter.

"Eppes! Do you have any idea how much trouble you've caused? And what do you mean 'trying'?"

"Don says they're doing badly."

Don was smirking now, and Colby had turned towards the window. Jason had a tiny smile on his face.

Tony sighed on the other end of the phone. "We got a call from the NCB just after I called you. Apparently Interpol were very concerned because your code in was wrong."

Charlie almost exploded.

"But they _know_ my Welsh is horrible!"

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**Really Fin.**

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Wow, that was a lot longer than the first chapter.

I'm fairly sure this is finished now. Just in case you didn't get it, Jason is Jason Bourne, and it takes place some time shortly after the Bourne Ultimatum, probably late season 2 for Numb3rs.

The Department of Justice includes the NCB (National Central Bureau) which is the contact point for Interpol. Interpol doesn't send their own people, they contact the appropriate country, which sends people from their own agencies.

My brother made me watch the Bourne Ultimatum the other day… and the idea snowballed.

No, the CIA is not that obvious, but it's based on the movie… in which they were rather noticeable.

I hope it was worth the read. Thanks again to all the people who have reviewed and/or favorited this story. (Yes, I am aware that's not a word.)

It makes writing a lot more worthwhile.


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